Song of the Lost
by ShapeShiftersandFire
Summary: Integra becomes flooded with reports of children with unsettled dæmons disappearing and returning without them, hollow-eyed and dull. As she begins to dig deeper to uncover the cruel masterminds behind the dæmonless children, Integra finds herself in the middle of a far more sinister plot that threatens to destroy her organization and bring her to her knees.
1. Introduction

**Hello! ShapeShiftersandFire here! I'd like to thank you for stopping by to read this. I'm pretty excited over this (please bear with me), seeing as it's the first Hellsing-His Dark Materials crossover. I have literally looked all over the Internet and found nothing for this kind of thing, so I have written my own. But before I get into the actual writing, I'd like to introduce the dæmons:**

**Illiad**  
- Female  
- 22 years of age  
- Integra Hellsing's dæmon  
-Settled Form: Russian Blue Cat  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the cat is a guardian and protector, especially in controntational situations. Illiad is protective of Integra, though she finds herself held back by the human-dæmon relationship and feels she cannot always sufficiently protect her counterpart. While she has settled as a Russian Blue in the sense of OVA, she would have settled as a snow leopard in the original anime.

**Homer**  
- Male  
- 67 years of age  
- Arthur Hellsing's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Bloodhound  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the dog is devoted, represents tracking skills, the ability to scent a trail, and companionship. Homer named Integra's dæmon after the book that bears her name, though with a slightly different spelling variation. He himself is named after the famous Greek poet.

**Bentley**  
- Male  
- 69 years of age  
- Walter Dornez's dæmon  
-Settled Form: Foxhound  
**Notes:** (See Homer- Notes for dog symbolism) Bentley, while originally settling as a foxhound, would later resettle as a black jaguar after Walter's transformation.

**Andreas**  
- Male  
- Unknown age  
- Alexander Andersen's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Irish Wolfhound  
**Notes:** (See Homer- Notes for dog symbolism)

**Sven**  
- Male  
- 47 years of age  
- The Major's dæmon  
- Settled Form: European Badger  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the badger is unyielding in the face of danger, and is noted for its tenacity and courage. It will teach you to fight for your rights and defend your spiritual ideas. Sven is by far the strangest dæmon to walk the earth, and his bond with the Major is like nothing the world has ever seen.

**Rohan**  
- Male  
- 19 years of age  
- Seras Victoria's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Hedgehog  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the hedgehog has a need for less defensiveness and seriousness. It appreciates life more. Rohan, despite Seras's overwhelming change from human to vampire, never resettled, though he does take the form of anything far more vicious than a hedgehog when Seras enters a blood rage.

**Eripmav**  
- Female  
- Unknown age  
- Alucard's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Black Cobra  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the snake represents wisdom, reincarnation, and cunning. Eripmav, in Alucard's younger female form, was able to change into any form she pleased, as all children's dæmons are able to do. As Dracula's counterpart, she took the form of a black Griffin.

**Beneviere**  
- Male  
- 33 years of age  
- Pip Bernadotte's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Red Squirrel  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the squirrel is always preparing for the future.

**Ashvenzeil**  
- Male  
- 70 years of age  
- Rip van Winkle's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Swan  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the swan is connected with music and song; it helps with the interpretation of dream symbols, transitions, and spiritual evaluation. Ashvenzeil's name has no meaning; he was called the first thing that came to mind. Rip commonly calls him "Ashes."

**Calidor**  
- Male  
- 33 years of age  
- Enrico Maxwell's dæmon  
- Settled Form: White-tailed Deer  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the deer represents keen sight, grace swiftness, and gentleness; there are ways of reaching goals other than force. Calidor is not necessarily gentle, nor is his counterpart.

**Sheppa**  
- Female  
- 40 years of age  
- Shelby Penwood's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Rough Collie  
** Notes:** (See Homer- Notes for dog symbolism) Sheppa has always been able to keep a level head on her shoulders and does not show her fear; among the dæmons she is sometimes considered to be braver than her counterpart, though she always does her best to clam him.

**Articus**  
- Male  
- 45 years of age  
- Richard Hellsing's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Jackal  
**Notes:** In Egyptian mythology, the jackal is a spirit guide, and teaches faithfulness. Articus is neither a decent spirit guide nor faithful to anyone but his counterpart. He does not get along with Bentley.

**Grinsley**  
- Male  
- 25 years of age  
- Heinkel Wolfe's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Timber Wolf  
**Notes:** In Celtic mythology, the wolf is cunning, intelligent, and capable of out-thinking hunters. It can teach you how to read the signs of nature in everything, how to pass by danger invisibly, how to outwit those who wish you harm, and how to fight when needed.

**Grendel**  
- Male  
- 37 years of age  
- The Doctor's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Osprey  
**Notes:** In Native American mythology, the osprey is often linked to those of otherworldly vision; it is also a common symbol of abundance. Grendel was named after the monster in the Anglo-Saxon epic _Beowulf_.

**Rotto**  
- Male  
-35 years of age  
- The Captain's dæmon  
- Settled Form: German Shepherd  
**Notes:** (See Homer- Notes for dog symbolism)

**Vervadain**  
- Male  
- 47 years of age  
-Tubalcain Alhambra's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Raccoon  
**Notes:** In Native American mythology, the raccoon is a trickster, but is also a skilled forager.

**Windsor**  
- Male  
- 75 years of age  
- Hugh Iron's dæmon  
- Settled Form: English Bulldog  
**Notes:** (See Homer- Notes for dog symbolism) Windsor and Illiad do not always see eye to eye on issues, often leading to confrontations between them. It has gotten Integra into trouble with Sir Irons more than once; she makes it a point to keep Illiad well away from Windsor during Round Table meetings.

**Kai-ren**  
- Male  
- 29 years of age  
- Yumiko Takagi's dæmon  
- Settled Form: Lion  
**Notes:** In common mythology, the lion is a symbol of protection, bravery and courage. It is also seen as a king or ruler.

**Please keep in mind that not all the dæmons listed here will appear in the story. They may appear in future short stories with the rest of the dæmons. If you'd like to take up your own story with any of them, be my guest! At the end of each chapter, I'll be adding some author's notes just to point out a few things, or if you have any questions, feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy the story and thank you for reading!**


	2. The White Moth, Part 1

Illiad came to Integra in the form of a white moth. It was only a few moments after Integra had been born, on the night of a full moon. The window had been left open, letting a cool summer's night draft flow through the room.

A glowing trail of dust followed through the window. As it possed through the threshold, it began to take on the form of a delicate white moth. The little moth fluttered across the room and made itself comfortable on Integra's forehead. And so they were bonded, human and dæmon.

~O~

Arthur Hellsing's dæmon was a Bloodhound called Homer, who had named Integra's dæmon after the Greek legend _The Iliad_, himself being named after the great poet who wrote it. While Arthur looked after Integra, Homer looked after Illiad. He couldn't teach the young dæmon anything of shape shifting, not when it came naturally to her as a child's dæmon.

Illiad often took the form of a Bloodhound, a near mirror image of Homer. They played carefully together, so as to not harm each other and their human counterparts. They laid together on quiet days when Arthur wasn't busy managing the affairs of the Hellsing Organization and could sit with Integra. The little dæmon sometimes forgot herself and chewed on Homer's long, flappy ears.

~O~

On days when Arthur and Homer couldn't be around, Integra and Illiad sometimes entertained themselves in the backyard. Illiad liked to explore the animals forms she could take on, and Integra liked to watch. It was sort of a game to her, what form could her dæmon take on next? If Illiad's new form was small enough to hide in the grass, Integra liked to guess what form her dæmon was in. If not, Illiad like to surprise her.

Integra's favorite form of Illiad's was her snow leopard form. There was something beautiful she found in the pale pattern of spots that covered Illiad's stone gray fur.

Illiad's favorie form was on the other end of the size scale. She favored the form of a Russian Blue cat. She liked that form of a Bloodhound, it let her play with Homer without getting hurt, but her cat form let her get closer to Integra. And she liked being close to Integra, she felt safe. Homer said that it was a dæmon's natural instinct to remain close to their counterpart; it minimized the chances of something happening to either one of them.

She believed, him, of course. Sometimes she and Integra grew uncomfortable when they were too far apart. Homer and Arthur told them it was nothing to worry about. It simply meant that they were too far away from each other than their bond allowed.

~O~

When Integra and Illiad were twelve years old, Homer and Arthur began to fall ill. Integra and Illiad turned more and more to the butler, Walter, and his foxhound dæmon, Bentley. They were a good natured pair; they took over the position of father where Arthur and Homer couldn't.

There was Integra's uncle, Richard Hellsing, and his jackal dæmon, Articus, but they were suspicious and often looked down on Integra and Illiad with disdain.

~O~

In between schooling, Integra and Illiad did the best they could to visit Arthur and Homer. They were always happy to see each other, though Homer and Illiad couldn't play the way they used to. It was still nice to snuggle in with Homer and Arthur for a little while each day.

Illiad sensed Integra's sadness as her father's illness progressed, but they never discussed it. She felt just as sad about Homer. They just didn't have the words, or the heart, to voice their sadness.

~O~

Illiad didn't voice her suspicions about Richard to Integra, either. She had a sinking feeling that he was overly confident he would inherit the Hellsing Organization once Arthur died. Death was a heavy subject on Integra, and was something they chose not to discuss.

She worried for Integra. Her uncle openly looked down on her, though never in Arthur's presence. She didn't know what would happen to Integra if Richard was named heir. He had never outright abused Integra, but there was no telling what would happen if he became the head of Hellsing. Illiad liked to imagine that Walter and Bentley would take care of her and Integra, since Bentley was nearly twice Articus's size and Walter could be a dangerous foe if need be.

She worried, too, what could happen if Richard _wasn't_ named heir? What would he do to Integra then? She sometimes imagined Richard sneaking into Integra's room in the middle of the night and killing her with one bullet to the head. Other times she imagained him bullying his own niece into giving him the power and making sure Integra didn't live long enough to see it fall into her hands. No matter what Illiad imagined, it always ended with her and Integra dead in one way or another.

~O~

Illiad's fears became more than just frivolous worries when Arthur called them to his room one day. Richard wasn't there, and for that Illiad was thankful. Whatever Arthur had to tell them couldn't have been meant for Richard's ears.

Walter and Bentley at least accompanied them to Arthur's room. Illiad walked close to Bentley in the form of a foxhound. She wouldn't have minded being up in Integra's arms, but there was something in the foxhound dæmon's presence that calmed her some.

_I'm afraid, Bentley,_ she said before she could stop herself.

_I know,_ he said, giving her ear a lick. _Walter and I don't like Richard and Articus any more than you do. Articus would have done better to settle as a weasel._

Illiad nodded. So Bentley and Walter didn't like Richard and Articus, either. Well, at least she wasn't alone. She shifted into the form of a Bloodhound as they crossed into Arthur's room. she glanced up at Integra. Her human counterpart was worried, but was doing her best not to show it.

Illiad lept onto the bed as Integra sat down at her father's side. She trotted over to Homer and affectionately licked his face. _Hello, Homer._

The Bloodhound's tail wagged weakly. _My dear, Illiad,_ he said. _Come, lie down. Arthur has something important to share with you and Integra._

The weakness in Homer's voice worried Illiad. _Homer,_ she said, _are you dying?_

Homer sighed. _Yes, dear Illiad, Arthur and I are dying._

Illiad shook her head. _No, Homer, you can't be!_

_Come here, Illiad. Come here._

Illiad did as Homer instructed. She made herself comfortable by his chest.

_Death is not something to be afraid of, Illiad,_ Homer explained. _It is a natural part of life that touches everyone at one point or another. Worry not, Illiad. You and Integra are young and healthy. You will live to see many more sunrises and many more sunsets. _He gave Illiad a lick._ Focus on your time here on Earth. Don't worry about the future._

Illiad was about to object, to tell Homer of her fears about Richard, when Arthur spoke. His voice was weak, but urgent. "Integra, Illiad," he began slowly, "if the time should ever come, when all other hope is lost, if you should find yourself surround with your enemies closing in, go to the last cell of the deepest dungeon of the estate. There lies one of the Hellsing family's darkest legacies. It will be the instrument of your salvation."

~O~

Two days later, after having given Integra her instructions and naming her his heir, Arthur and Homer died. It was expected, but shocking nonetheless.

And then, before they had time to mourn, Integra and Illiad were on the run.

Richard Hellsing and four other men began hunting them down the night after Arthur died. Integra and Illiad knew right away that they needed help, but Walter and Bentley were away on business, and there was no one else in the mansion to help them. They made for the basement, just as Arthur instructed.

~O~

Integra decided it was best for them to get off the main floor once they were low enough in the mansion. She scooped Illiad into her arms and made for the ventilation system. Richard and his men couldn't follow them. Not even their dæmons could follow them, not without igniting a flurry of physical and emotional pain from the separation.

She nudged Illiad on ahead of her, looking over her shoulder to make sure they hadn't been discovered or followed. She crawled after her dæmon, keeping her between her arms to keep her close. She crawled quietly, so as not to alert anyone who might be listening below her.

"Come on, Illiad," she whispered. "We're almost there..."

Through a grate in the vent Integra could see the dark floor of the dungeon. They were close. Now all they had to do was get to the last cell and avoid Richard in the process.

But it wasn't long until Integra heard her uncle's voice below her, taunting her. She heard the click of a gun, and knew her time was running out.

"Let's go," she whispered. She steered her dæmon away from the grate and toward a ladder, haning from a grate further away form her uncle. She let Illiad perch on her shoulder in the form of a white moth, blending in against her shirt collar, and climbed down the ladder. She made a beeline for the last cell of the dungeon, as instructed, hoping to beat her uncle and find her salvation.

~O~

Illiad had never seen as snake as large as the black cobra that stood before her and Integra. The shock was enough to take the pain away from her shoulder, in the same place as the bleeding gunshot wound on Integra's.

The cobra fanned her hood and stood taller next to her human, or rather vampiric, counterpart, who stood taller than Integra, even on one knee. Her tongue flickered as her gaze switched from Illiad to Integra. Her head bobbed and she reached forward to hiss something inaudible into her counterpart's ear. His eyes shifted, but he said nothing.

Illiad crouched next to Integra, back in her cat form. They were alone with a blood thirsty monster who had just devored Richard and his men and could easily overpower her and Integra. And Walter was miles away.

"What is your name?" Integra asked.

"My master," the vampire said in an airy voice," your father called me... Alucard."

"And your dæmon?"

_Eripmav,_ the black cobra introduced herself with another bob of her head.

"My name is Integra," Illiad's counterpart introduced herself. "This is my dæmon, Illiad."

"Integra," Alucard echoed, "and Illiad. It is... a pleasure." He extended his hand for Integra to shake.

As Integra accepted his friendly gesture, Illiad felt a stirring in her body. She tingled all over, as though ants were crawling through her fur. Something was happening, something she couldn't ignore. _Integra!_

Eripmav's hood seemed to fan wider; her mouth opened just enough to show her tongue and fangs.

Integra looked from Illiad to Alucard, confused. "Is something wrong?"

The black cobra hissed in amusement. She waved her body from one side to the other. Alucard smiled.

_She's settling,_ Eripmav said.

"_Settling?_" Integra and Illiad echoed at once.

_Yes,_ Eripmav answered. _It is natural. When a human child reaches maturity, her dæmon will settle into one form. Congratulations, Integra Hellsing._ She waved again and nodded her head. _Your dæmon, Illiad, has settled._

* * *

**A/N: Illiad's first form, a white moth, is said to symbolize the soul of a loved one, which I find fitting, given the circumstances. The dæmons here speak mentally to each other and their counterparts. From what I understand they are capable of human speech, though I'm not sure if it's verbal or mental (I am currently not in possession of any of the His Dark Materials books- I gave them away long, long before I began this project, which, in hind sight, was pretty stupid of me, but I never thought I'd read them.) and I can't entirely trust the movie format of it. You know how it is, eh?**

**Please let me know what you think! Reviews are always welcomed!**


	3. Sighs and Echoes

The reports were coming in faster than Integra Hellsing had ever seen. Never before had she received so many reports of hollow-eyed and lifeless children separated from their dæmons. The reports had been coming in since two Aprils ago, when the first few had made their way to Integra's desk. Now it was May two years later, and the reports had stacked themselves into three neat piles on her desk. They had come in faster and heavier than the month before, and the flood was still lapping at the Hellsing Organization's doorstep.

Normally Hellsing wouldn't have taken on these kinds of cases, but when children were disappearing off the streets of London and other cities in England only to return without their dæmons, it was only reasonable that Hellsing get involved. And especially when there were new vampires turning up that had not been turned the traditional way. For all Integra knew, the creator of these new vampires was the same sadistic mastermind that was kidnapping children and severing them from their unsettled dæmons. Not to mention that there were some things that the local police departments just couldn't do, and Hellsing had a broader range of jurisdiction that spanned over the entirety of England.

There was that, and then there was the fact that Integra had a dæmon of her own, as was normal in her world. Hers was in the form of a Russian Blue cat, a female her father's dæmon had named Illiad.

Integra had always thought that Illiad would have settled into the form of a snow leopard, for reasons even she didn't quite understand. Instead Illiad had settled into her favorite form, that of a sleek Russian Blue. It had almost come as a surprise to Integra; she had heard of dæmons having a favored form but often settling into another. Illiad had done just the opposite, and after their first meeting with Alucard and his dæmon, Eripmav.

Now, as Integra stared with exhaustion at the three stacks on her desk, she though of all the children who would never get to see their dæmons settle. Of the hundreds of reported children, nearly half of them had died, unable to live without their dæmons. That number was still climbing, and it broke Integra's heart.

She was doing everything in her power to find out who was doing this to these poor children, but so far she'd had no luck. The police had gotten no leads, no information to pass on to her. The reports on her desk led to a cold trail.

With a sigh, she leaned back in her desk chair, tired and defeated. She was much more used to dealing with vampires and ghouls, not severed dæmons. She had always welcomed a challenge, but this one hit too close to home.

At nineteen, her dæmon had been settled for only seven years and she knew as well as anyone how deep the connection between human and dæmon ran. She could never imagine what it would be like to be severed from her dæmon. And to think that all those children at six, seven, eight, and nine years old had been torn from theirs.

With another sigh, Integra stared blankly at the ceiling. She couldn't help but wonder how her father would have handled the situation.

_Your father wouldn't have felt any better about this than you do._ The voice came from Illiad, who lay splayed out on her side on Integra's desk, as tired and defeated as her human counterpart.

"But he may have been able to do more." The beginnings of a headache made Integra's head pinch. She hadn't slept in nearly two days; the flood of reports had kept her up through all hours of the night. She felt as though she couldn't rest until she had gotten to the bottom of this heinous crime.

_This isn't going to solve itself in two nights, Integra. You need to rest._

Integra shook her head. She couldn't rest, not yet. She had to run over the files again. Maybe there was something she missed, something she just wasn't seeing. She leaned forward to go through the piled closest to Illiad, and surprised herself with a yawn. She reached for the cup of tea Walter had brought her a few hours ago, only to discover that she had already drained the liquid from the cup.

She paged Walter over the phone, asking him for another cup of tea, and began to sort through her designated pile. The words were a blur, made no sense to Integra's eyes. She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. It was going to be another long night.

~O~

When Walter finally arrived at Integra's office, he had no tea with him, only a concerned expression on his face. Integra glanced up at him from her paperwork, her head in her hand.

"Hello, Walter." Her voice was tired, her words were slurred with sleep. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to stay awake and focused on the paper in front of her. She was too tired to register that Walter had no tea with him, it didn't matter any more to her. She heard him sigh.

"Sir Integra, you've been up for forty-eight hours straight," he said. "You need to rest."

_I tried to tell her the same,_ Illiad said, her words equally as slurred and tired. _She wouldn't listen._

"Hmm." Walter stood unamused. "Yes, that sounds like her." He crossed the room and pulled Integra away from the report on her desk, ignoring her sleepy protests. "You need to rest." It wasn't a question, but a firm statement.

"Walter..." she protested slowly. "I can't, not yet." But she couldn't hold back another yawn.

"Yes, you can." Walter pulled her out of her chair with little effort. She was so exhausted she could hardly stand. Her eyelids felt heavy; she was ready to fall asleep into Walter's arms right then and there.

"Come on. Bentley, can you take Illiad?"

Bentley nodded and took Illiad onto his back without so much as a peep from the cat dæmon. _At least she knows when she's reached her limit,_ he quipped, earning a tired glare from Integra.

But Integra regardless allowed herself to be guided to her room. She sat down heavily at the edge of the bed, her head spinning. She hardly knew what was going on around her, it was all a blur. Half asleep, she yanked off her shoes, tossed them aside, and crawled into bed, all without changing out of her suit.

She didn't even hear Walter shut the door on his way out.

~O~

There was another dæmon staring back at her, a sleek black-footed ferret. It wasn't Illiad, she knew right away, despite her foggy mind. Illiad _never _took the form of a ferret. They were dirty, foul creatures, she said, as flexible in their lies as they were in body.

Why, then, was there a black-footed ferret dæmon staring at her with terrified black eyes?

It wasn't clear to her at first, but she soon recognized that there was some sort of barrier in between her and the dæmon. It was a glass barrier, wired through with some kind of hair-thin silver mesh.

A humming noise rocked Integra in spite of its low volume. The ferret dæmon called out to her, a name that wasn't hers, and mute through the barrier. A silver light shone at the top of the barrier. A sharp twinge ran through her body. It grew progressively worse as the light fell lower, as though something was being ripped out of her from deep inside, from a place no surgeon could ever physically get to.

Suddenly she was aware of herself screaming. Whether it was in pain or protest, or a combination of both, or the name of a dæmon that didn't belong to her on her lips, she wasn't sure. But she was screaming regardless, and fighting against the glass that cut her off from the dæmon. The blade, as it were, lowered further, and soon there was nothing but black.

~O~

Integra woke in a cold sweat, heart pounding, hands wringing. She shivered and trembled uncontrollably. The dry stains around her eyes told her she had been crying, but she couldn't remember that.

She rolled onto her side and clutched a shaking Illiad to her chest. She dug her fingers into Illiad's fur; Illiad clung to Integra's suit with her claws. She drew her knees up with a violent shudder.

She remembered little about the nightmare she had just escaped. She was sure she remembered seeing another dæmon, yes, one that wasn't hers, a black-footed ferret. She remembered a glass wall, and then nothing.

A sob escaped Integra's mouth before she could stop it; a new set of tears rolled down her cheeks. Something in that nightmare had utterly terrified her, but what it was, she couldn't pinpoint precisely. Her only feeling was that something vital had been ripped from her, and every instinct screamed at her to hold Illiad as close as she physically could.

She curled into a tighter ball, resisting the urge to call for Walter. She hadn't had to call for him during the night since she was twelve.

Suddenly and without warning the temperature in the room seemed to plunge, sending Integra into a violent shivering fit. She wanted to wipe her eyes of the tears that plagued them, but her hands were too attached to Illiad to respond to her brain's command. She mentally cursed herself for showing weakness in front of her servant. She was a leader, _his_ leader, not a tearful five year old. She should have been stronger than she was, but the nightmare had wracked her to her core.

"What bothers you, Master?" His raspy, yet airy voice made Integra's spine tingle. Did he really have to materialize in the room like that? What was so wrong with using the door? She couldn't respond.

"Something troubles you, Master." Integra heard Alucard's footsteps echo in the silence of the room as he grew closer; she heard Eripmav's scales gliding over the floor. She couldn't find the words to answer him. She didn't trust her voice, not that she could find it anyway, and she was sure she was on the verge of another breakdown. She clung to Illiad silently instead, not wanting to appear any weaker in Alucard's eyes than she was sure she already did.

A cold shiver passed through Integra's body as Alucard rested a hand on her shoulder. She wanted to shrug him off, to make him leave her be, but she was caught between the need to be alone and the need for the comforting touch of a friend. She clutched Illiad's head to her shoulder and closed her eyes, and heard a soft hiss from Eripmav.

_May we read your mind, Integra?_

Integra didn't-couldn't- answer, but felt the shifting of Illiad's head on her shoulder as her dæmon answered for her. She understood what Illiad was doing. Alucard needed to understand what troubled her so, and she knew he wouldn't let up until he had his answer, especially now that Integra was mute and virtually incapacitated.

Warmth rushed back into her when Alucard removed his hand from her shoulder, only to leave as quickly as it arrived when he placed his hand on her temple. His hand, though gloved, was cold on Integra's skin. She curled up tighter, trying to preserve any kind of warmth he may have left her. She found none.

She felt the same cold fingers gently sift through her mind, searching for the cause of her distress. She let Alucard wander freely, knowing that stopping him would only make matters worse. He would find what he wanted one way or another.

When Integra felt his probing fingers stop and linger in one area in her mind longer than in others, she knew he had found what he was searching for. He retreated with a sigh, the coldness of his probe flowing from her body. He hummed thoughtfully as he pulled his hand from Integra's head. He was then quiet for a long while, contemplating what it was he had seen. Then he spoke, concise, firm, and in a tone that offered no room for argument (not that Integra could give one anyway), "I'll get Walter."

Integra opened her eyes and watched as the last of Alucard's flowing red overcoat disappeared through the door. She stared mindlessly at the thick oaken doors. Her shaking had stopped, now that Alucard knew what plagued her, but she continued to lie stone-still on her bed, the sheets a tangled white mess around her. Her blonde hair hung in matted tresses over her shoulder and clung to her neck. Her suit hugged her tighter than usual and grew cold as the minutes ticked by. Finally she hauled herself out of bed and slowly made her way to the bathroom with her nightclothes, now that she was awake enough to properly shower and change.

She took a slow shower, figuring Alucard would take his time getting to Walter. He was like that with her. He seemed to know what she would do before she did it, as though he found the thought deep in the back of her mind before it fully manifested itself. She could never quite get used to his apparent gift of foresight, but she did find it useful.

Integra shut the water off and got out before the urge to lay down and fall asleep in the warmth of the shower overtook her. She made sure to dry her hair well, then dressed and went back down the hall to her room.

Illiad jumped onto the bed as Integra crawled in and pulled the sheets over herself. The cat dæmon curled up against Integra's chest. They were silent, listening to the creaks and groans of the Hellsing mansion settled into its foundation.

The silence and stillness was enough to make Integra sleepy again, but the face of the ferret dæmon haunted her when she closed her eyes. She lay awake in the bed, caught between the need to sleep and the need to keep the dæmon's face out of her mind. It was an unfortunate cycle.

_Unfortunate indeed._

~O~

"A nightmare? She hasn't had a nightmare in years."

"Well she has been looking over the reports of those unfortunate children torn from their dæmons for two days straight. Quite frankly, I'm not surprised at all."

Walter gave an exasperated sigh. "No, I don't suppose you would be," he muttered. He would never admit it to Alucard, but even he was surprised. The last time Alucard had come to him with news that Integra had had a nightmare, she had been twelve years old and it had been one week after her uncle attempt on her life.

At the same time, though, part of Walter wasn't shocked at all. Integra had spent an awful lot of time poring over those reports hour after hour for the past two days. Something was bound to have stuck in her mind and haunt her in her sleep.

"Is she all right?"

"She's fine." A smirk came and went on Alucard's face. There was clearly something the vampire knew that Walter didn't. And where Integra was concerned, it bothered Walter. He was in charge, even now, ten years later, of taking care of Integra. If anything were to happen to her under his watch, he would never forgive himself.

He started to push by Alucard, but the vampire stopped him with one arm. His wires tingled in his hands.

Bentley stiffened; his ears rose, his tail shot up. The fur along his back stood and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

Eripmav raised herself up and fanned her black hood defensively. She let out a hiss, her tail sweeping the carpet.

The two dæmons stood at a face off, stiff, growling, and hissing. Walter and Alucard let it happen; dæmons often decided dominance this way, and theirs did this often.

Finally, Bentley backed down with a huff. He sat down and turned his head to lick his shoulder. The altercation was decided: Bentley and Walter would wait until Alucard let them go. It agitated Walter, but he couldn't argue with the dæmons' decision.

So he stood there and waited, blocked by Alucard's arm, for what seemed like an eternity. They exchanged no words and their dæmons made no sounds.

When Alucard at last lowered his arm, his face was expressionless. He stood aside and let Walter pass. Walter brushed by him without so much as a sparing glance, and went down the hall at a brisk pace. He didn't have to turn around to know that Alucard was trailing behind him.

~O~

Walter was greeted with a hoarse "Come in" when he knocked at Integra's door. He opened it and went inside, for a brief moment surprised that Alucard didn't follow him, but his concern for Integra weighed on him more than his wondering why the vampire didn't come with him. He shut the door behind him.

Integra was lying in the fetal position under the sheets, on hand hidden under her pillow and the other around Illiad. The dark circles under her eyes spelled her exhaustion. She stared at Walter with a bewildered expression for a short while before it finally seemed to dawn on her that he was there to see her. She sat up halfway. She was in her nightclothes now, rather than in the suit she had fallen asleep in. She must have changed after waking up; no wonder Alucard made Walter wait.

"Walter?" Integra's voice was strained and worn out.

Walter sighed. "Integra." He hadn't called her by her first name alone since before she was knighted. Doing so now made him feel more like a father to her than just her butler. He sat down at the edge of the bed as she threw the sheets off and sat up next to him. Bentley jumped onto the bed and curled protectively around Illiad.

Integra leaned into Walter, clearly upset. Walter put his arm around Integra and let her stay that way, knowing that it wouldn't be much longer before she didn't want him to hold this way. It disappointed him, but all he could do was take advantage of and enjoy these small moments with her.

He sighed, rubbing her shoulder. "It's been a while since you've had to call me during the night, hasn't it?" He said it with a smile, and although Integra couldn't see his face, he hoped she could hear the humor in his voice.

"It has." Her voice was rough, as though she 's been screaming as loud as her vocal cords would allow. Could her nightmare really have been that bad?

"Are you all right, Miss Integra?"

Integra inched closer to Walter and took a breath. "I suppose so."

"Tell me about your nightmare."

"Walter..."

"I can't do anything for you unless I know exactly what's going on."

Integra took another breath, as though she was going to start speaking, but instead hesitated and was lost to Walter in her mind. He didn't press her, only waited until she was ready. He became so lost in his own thoughts that he hardly heard her when she spoke: "There was another dæmon."

_Huh?_ The words surprised him and snapped him back to reality. He looked down at Integra.

"It was a black-footed ferret," she said. "We were separated by some kind of barrier..."

Walter listened, horrified, as Integra described the blade that had come between her and a dæmon that wasn't hers. He had heard of this kind of process before, intercision, they called it, and he knew it was the worst possible fate to befall a human and her dæmon. Forgetting himself, he hugged Integra close, pained at the thought of the little girl he had nearly raised himself being subject to something as awful as that. He didn't have the heart then to tell Integra that this was the name of the fate that the missing children had found: intercision, separated from their dæmons and made into two separate entities. She needed to rest, not be up for yet another night worrying about the children. She couldn't help them exhausted.

Integra put on arm around Walter. "I'll find the bastards, Walter," she vowed. "I'll find them."

"I don't doubt you will," he agreed, "just not today." He smoothed down her hair, wondering why it felt damp under his hands, before he realized that she must have showered while Alucard kept him blocked in his room. The vampire always knew more than he let on. "Not until you're rested." He rubbed her back. "Get back in bed," he told her. "I promise you the perpetrators will still be there in the morning for you to find." Where _there_ was exactly, he wasn't sure, but he knew that one way or another Integra would find out.

As he stood, Bentley uncurled from around Illiad and lept off the bed. Integra and Illiad crawled back under the sheets; Walter adjusted them slightly, something he hadn't done in years. "I'll wake you if I hear anything new."

A tired smile lit Integra's face. "Thank you, Walter."

Walter turned around at the door. "You're welcome, Miss Integra. Good night."

"Good night, Walter."

The door shut without an echo.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, Integra is nineteen during this story. It takes place three years before the events of OVA.  
**

**R&R, per favore!**


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